


Wherever You Go

by iamthececimonster



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deaf Albert DaSilva, Deaf Character, Don't Judge Me, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Hispanic Character, Italian Racetrack Higgins, Jewish Character, Jewish David Jacobs, M/M, Slow Burn, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthececimonster/pseuds/iamthececimonster
Summary: Racetrack is a teenage dancer in New York City, and one day, a cute new kid walks into the studio. He's immediately smitten.





	Wherever You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a dancer. I know nothing about dancing. This was supposed to be a one-shot. It would appear that I am not good at writing one-shots. This was 100% because of the dance videos that Ben Cook and Sky Flaherty posted on Instagram, because I am a garbage human being. Please be kind. 
> 
> There's a lot of people speaking languages that aren't English. English is my first and primary language, so if I butchered something, I'm sorry. Writing ASL is hard to do, and I'm not fluent, so, again, if it's hard to understand, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Shout out to James, Leah, and Jimmy, as usual, for beta'ing this and generally being the best ever human beings. All mistakes are my own. I don't own any of these characters. The title is from the song What If I Go? by Mura Masa, it's amazing, listen to it.

Race sat on the sun warmed floor of the studio, legs outspread in a wide v, bent in half between them, stretching. He relished the comparative quiet of the sun-warmed studio. It was hot outside, and the fans blowing languid air around the room were working overtime. 

His reverie was interrupted by his friend Sarah throwing herself down next to him. “Who’s the new kid?”

“Huh?” Race looked up in the direction of her gesturing

A tall, red haired boy was standing close to the instructor, having a quiet conversation. Race had never seen the boy before, he had on tapered sweatpants and a baggy long sleeved shirt, and had a gym bag thrown over one shoulder. He tapped against his ear, and shrugged. The dance instructor made a few gestures, the boy nodded, a smile lighting his face. Race noticed the beginning of a feeling squirming in his stomach, and turned back to Sarah. 

“I’ve never seen him before. Must be new.”

Sarah grinned at him, winking. “He’s cute, though, huh, Race?” 

He rolled his eyes, wondering if he would ever grow out of the terrible nickname he’d been given years ago, or if he wanted to. “Why don’t you ask him out if he’s so cute?”

“Ha. Not quite my type, you fuck…” Sarah rolled her eyes.

Race grinned at her, pushing his feet straight in front of him in her direction, kicking his heels. She grabbed the tops of his feet, pushing down to stretch his ankles. When she pushed her feet at him and laid back to stretch her torso, Race looked back at the tall boy still talking to the instructor. Finally, he seemed to finish talking to the tall, stern man, and with a slight incline of his head that may have been a bow, he turned to walk away. Race watched him run his thin fingers through his dark red hair, and noticed a dark colored hearing aid curled around his ear. 

Race smacked Sarah’s shin lightly when the boy had passed. 

“Wha!?” She hissed at him.

“The new guy has a hearing aid” Race whispered.

“And what?” She whispered back.

Race thought for a moment. “I don't know. I've never met a dancer with a hearing aid, I guess.” He shrugged. 

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Race.” 

Just then, the instructor, Denton, called them to attention, starting class. Race and Sarah had been taking classes with Denton for years now, knowing him to be funny and fair, but very strict. He tolerated no nonsense in his classes. Race tugged a baseball cap over his errant dirty blonde curls and began stretching his limbs, following Denton’s direction. 

They were starting new choreography for the showcase in a couple months, so Denton and the teaching assistant showed them the whole dance from start to finish. It was an upbeat, energetic song, with lots of acrobatic choreo in the dance - classic Denton. The man was a ball of energy personified. Race tapped his foot against the crowd in time with the beat of the music. Glancing in the floor to ceiling mirror in the front of the room, he saw the new kid, just a few feet away, nodding his head and moving his arms in a jerking fashion, following the movement of Denton’s arms. Race shook his head, adjusting his hat, and re-focused on the movement in front of him.

They spent the rest of the class going over the new choreo. They had a month and a half to learn two new dances, and Denton would pick a few people to perform with small groups or partnerships. Even while stressing out about the choreo and feeling sweat pour down his neck, Race couldn't help but notice - the new kid was an incredible dancer. And the baggy shirt couldn't completely hide the rippling of his back and shoulder muscles. The class paused for water and a breath, and the new kid pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing an expanse of pale white, freckled skin and chiseled abs and Race almost choked on his water. 

“Alright there, Race?” He jumped nearly out of his skin at Sarah's voice behind him.

“Jesus, Sarah! You scared the shit out of me!” He whipped around. 

“Hmmm” she wiggled her eyebrows at her friend. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “Shut up, stupid.”

“Oh, such language. Very clever retort, Higgins.” Sarah giggled. 

“If you don't leave me alone I'm going to tell Davey you read his diary.” Race glared, the effect slightly ruined by the faint blush gracing his olive cheeks.

“I would never!” Sarah gasped, considering what her brother probably writes about in his diary. “I genuinely do not want to know what it says in there. I don't think I can physically stomach reading him waxing poetic about Jack and Crutchy. I get enough of that shit out loud.” 

Race chuckled darkly. “But he doesn't know that, does he?” He raised his eyebrow threateningly.

“Fine, fine. You win, Race.” 

Denton called them back to center. By the end of class, all Race wanted was a shower. And food. Lots of food. 

As they were packing up, he watched the new kid pull a phone out of his gym bag, smiling at whatever he was reading on his phone. Race felt his gut clench at that smile. The red haired boy tied his shoes and Race tried not to stare at his long fingers. He felt Sarah next to him and tried even harder to ignore her pointed stare. 

Suddenly, Sarah grabbed his dance bag and pulled Race to his feet. 

“Sarah, what are you doing!?” He hissed as she started pulling him in the direction of the new kid, waving sweetly to Denton. 

“We're just being nice, Race. Introducing ourselves. Be a gentleman for once.” Sarah whispered through her smile.

“I'm always a gentleman.” Race muttered, acknowledging that Sarah wasn't listening anyway. 

They reached the new kid as he was standing up. Race nearly took a step back when he realized that this boy was TALL. Taller than him, maybe even taller than Blink. He gulped. 

“Hi!” Sarah was gleeful. “I'm Sarah, I've never seen you around before.” She stuck her hand out and the new kid shook it, almost without thinking. 

“I'm Albert.” His voice was deep, a little thick with accent, and he was looking at Race when he said it.

“This is Race,” Sarah elbowed the curly haired boy next to her. “You can also call him Tony. Occasionally, he responds to just ‘Hey Stupid!’”

“Oi!  _ Mio Dio _ , shut up.” He smiled at the new kid - Albert, he reminded himself, and put his own hand out to shake hands. Albert clasped his hand and if they both held on for slightly longer than strictly necessary, who was counting. “I apologize for her. She's crazy, you kind of have to head her off or she'll never stop talking.” 

Albert laughed, the sound sending goosebumps down Race’s spine. And there was that smile again. 

“So, uh, Race?” Albert raised a dark eyebrow. 

“It's an absurdly long and stupid story.” Race shook his head.

“He used to win all these races as a kid. He was like, obsessed with the racetracks.” Sarah supplied, guiding them out the door. 

“Have I told you lately that I hate you?” Race asked with a groan.

Sarah shrugged. “I'm sure, but when you say it all I hear is ‘Sarah, you're delightful and I love you and I don't know where I'd be without you’ so who knows?” 

They stepped out into the oppressive early September heat. Albert smiled, a little tight, his heart dropping a little.

“So how long have the two of you been...together?” He asked, aiming for casual and feeling like he missed by about 6 light years. 

Sarah choked a laugh and Race dramatically grabbed his chest, mock offense across his face. 

“Oh, sweetie.” Sarah put her hand on Albert’s shoulder. “No no. Dear god no. Even if I liked guys, Race would be like, somewhere near the bottom of my list of People to Date. We've known each other since kindergarten.” 

“I'm not sure if I should be more offended that Sarah's opinion of me is that low, or that someone assumed I was heterosexual, or that anyone would assume that I would ever date Sarah. There's just a lot going on here. A lot to unpack.” Race shook his head. 

Albert’s eyebrows seemed to land somewhere near his hairline. “Oh. Oh my bad…” 

Sarah patted his shoulder gently, offering him a smile. “Fear not, young Albert. We will forgive you this grave error just this once and chalk it up to momentary insanity. But just to be safe, assume none of our friends are straight. They aren't. Not a one.” 

“Isn't Blink straight?” Race furrowed his brow and Albert was overcome with the desire to kiss his forehead.

“Blink?” He asked at the same time as Sarah responded.

“Uh...he might be? He might be bi. He does talk a lot about the mayor's daughter but I'm also pretty sure I saw him and Spot making out on the fire escape at the last party at Romeo's place.” 

“Aww, that's cute.” Race smiled. “He's called Blink because he has one eye. Don't stare. He's feisty and liable to punch folk for thinking funny. And if he's with Spot, Spot is weirdly defensive and liable to punch folk for no good reason at all. He's called Spot because when he met Jack he had a black eye. Jack likes to nickname people. If you don't want him, do what Sarah did.”

“What did Sarah do?” Albert looked to the long haired girl in question.

“Glared at him, told him my name was Sarah and that if he wanted to keep his pretty face in one piece, he'd continue to call me Sarah.” She smiled in a way that was nearly frightening. 

Albert must have looked taken aback, so Race spoke again. “You can also just tell him he can call you Albert and Davey will probably glare until he does.” 

“Who is...you know what, this is getting confusing…” 

“Davey is my brother, and one of Jack's boyfriends.” Sarah smiled magnanimously, adjusting the shoulder strap of her dance bag and crossing her arms over her chest. “You wanna just come to dinner with us? We're going to this place called Jacobi’s that, blissfully, hasn't been overtaken by shitty hipsters. Except for this asshole. And Crutchy. Who is Jack's other boyfriend. Hopeless hipsters, the both of them.” 

“First of all, Sarah…” Race started. 

“Don't even start, Race. Please I beg you.” 

He scowled. 

“Uh...I'm supposed to meet my friend Kathryn for dinner?” Albert rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. 

“Girlfriend?” Sarah smiled sweetly. “Bring her. We don't bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

Albert choked out a laugh. “I think it's my turn to be offended, if your assumption is that I am a hetero.” He pulled his phone out, showing them the back - a watercolor in pink, blue, and white with bold letters reading Here, Queer, and Proud. “Kathryn is definitely not my girlfriend, and would be quite disappointed to think someone would think she has such poor taste. Or that she likes men.”  

Race felt his chest constrict, a small glow building around his stomach. 

“Either way,” Sarah was adamant, “Bring her. We'll be meeting there around 6:30.” 

Albert checked his watch. Enough time to shower and beg Kathryn to come with him. “I'll ask her? Where is the place?” 

“Oh! Put your number in Race’s phone. We'll text you the address.” Sarah gestured to the boy next to her. 

Race raised an eyebrow. 

“My phone is in my bag and I don’t want to go digging for it, Race.” she whined. “Take the poor boy’s phone so I can go shower.” 

Race reached into his hoodie pocket. “She's a bit bossy, in case you hadn't noticed that yet.” He smiled shyly at the taller boy, holding out his phone. “Also, I'm terribly forgetful, so it may actually be her texting you the address from my phone.” 

Albert laughed. “Well, I hope you text me, too.” 

Race felt a gasp of breath escape his mouth. He was hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. With more bravery than he felt, he responded, “Only if you promise to text back?” 

“Oh, without a doubt. Hopefully, see you in a bit.” With a short wave, the red head pulled his hood up and walked down the sidewalk. 

Sarah grabbed Race’s arm with a squeal as soon as Albert had walked away. “Only if you promise to text back, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows again. 

“Can it,  _ idiota _ . I will end you.” Race grumbled.

Sarah mimed zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed,  _ Oytser _ .” 

“This is why people think we're dating, Sarah. Especially your  _ Bubbe _ .”

“That old lady's crazy. You're the light of my life. Doesn't mean I gotta marry you. Now let's go. I'm fucking starving.” 

“You're crazy,  _ cara mia _ . Crazy.” 

They walked back towards Race’s apartment building together, quickly. 

*****

Less than two hours later, Sarah and Race walked into their favorite restaurant, their friends already there. Jacobi, the elderly Jewish man who pretended to be grouchy about the teenagers, greeted Sarah immediately, opening his arms for a hug. 

“ _ Shayna Maidel _ , it's been too long. I see your brothers every week, why not you?”

“ _ Zayde,  _ you know I am so busy. I always send my love, do these foolish boys not deliver it?” Sarah gestured to her brothers, David and Les, who raised their arms in defense.

Race just threw his head back and laughed at his friends. 

Albert stood in front of the building, staring in the glass windows at Race. He was wearing dark jeans, suspenders dangling from them - Race never bothered to pull them up. A red Henley with the sleeves pushed up showed off his arms and shoulders and Albert felt his throat constrict. He was holding a leather jacket in one hand, and when he pushed his fingers through his curls, laughing at whatever Sarah was saying to the old man wearing an apron, Albert felt his pale face flush.

“Darling Albert. Are we going to stand out here staring, or can we go inside?” Kathryn clicked her tongue at her best friend. 

“Oh god. Kath, he's beautiful. I'm gonna pass out.” 

“You're fine.  _ Comida. Por favor. _ ” She grabbed the taller boy by the arm and pushed the door open, cool air greeting them with a blast. 

Everyone turned around. Race felt his jaw drop a little. The red-haired boy was wearing a green button down that managed to emphasize both his eyes and his collar bones. His boot cut jeans managed to make his legs look even longer. Luckily, Sarah saved the day. 

“Oh yay! You found it!” She rushed forward, “You must be Kathryn! I'm Sarah!” 

Kathryn froze momentarily, trying to remember how to greet someone. “ _ Hola. _ ” She whispered. 

“English, Kath.” Albert rolled his eyes. His best friend was useless when faced with pretty girls.

“ _ Oyé. Lo siento. _ ” Kath coughed. “Sorry. Yes. Hi. I'm Kathryn. Or Kath,” she seemed to gain courage.

“Come, come.” Sarah grabbed both Kath and Albert by the hands, pulling them to the table. Jack and Mush had just pushed another small table together to make space. 

“So, Albert, you know Race, who has suddenly chosen selective mutism for some reason,” she gestured to her friend, who was sliding into a seat silently. Albert smiled softly at the shorter boy. “This is Jack, Crutchy, then my brothers Davey and Les, and this is Specs, Mush, Romeo, Blink, and Spot.” Everyone waved or nodded. “Everyone, this Albert, who just joined our dance class, and Kathryn.” 

Both of the newcomers just stood motionless for a moment.

Race seemed to come back to himself. “Don't worry. There's not a quiz, and Spot doesn't hate you, that's just his face. Sit, sit.” 

“Watch it, Race. I know where you sleep.” Spot leaned forward, tossing a napkin across the table.

“Yes, sweetheart. And I know where you sleep. In the apartment down the street. This isn't complicated.” He tossed the napkin back, trying to ignore the warmth in his belly when Albert sat next to him. 

Spot rolled his eyes. 

“So,” Crutchy leaned his elbows on the table. “Did you just move here or something? How come we've never seen you?” 

Albert gulped the water Jacobi had put in front of him. Kath put her hand on his knee under the table.

“Eh, something like that. We start at PS160 on Monday?” 

“Oh shit!” Jack cried, “That's where we go! Don't worry, we'll make sure you don't get lost. Just don't talk to the Delancey brothers.” 

“Why not?” Kath asked, curious.

“They're fucking racist ass, homophobic, misogynistic, creepy fucking douchebags.” Blink scowled into his soda. Spot put his hand gently on Blink’s back.

“Last week, Jack beat Oscar up for some shit with Specs.” Mush muttered.

Albert raised his eyebrow.

Specs chuckled darkly. “Yeah, apparently nerdy black kids with glasses are a threat? Somehow? I'll get back to you on that. Either way, my moms was mad as hell because they broke my glasses. I had to get new ones.” He tapped the leg of his dark rimmed glasses. 

“They broke your fucking…” Kathryn practically growled, trailing off into a string of Spanish cuss words.

Mush burst out laughing. “ _ Me gusta ella. ¿Podemos mantenerte? _ ” 

“ _ ¡Oh! ¿Tú hables español?” _

_ “Sí, por supueste. Soy Colombino.” _

_ “¡Soy Mexicana!”  _

Romeo looked excited, finally speaking. “ _ ¡Soy Puerto Rican! _ ” 

Blink coughed loudly. “Y'all! How many times?” 

Romeo giggled “ _ Lo siento, mi culpa… _ ” 

“Huh?” Kath looked confused. 

Les piped up, his childish voice bright and sunny. “They got really frustrated with Davey and Sarah speaking Hebrew or Yiddish to each other, so they made a rule that unless everyone understands the language, it's not fair to exclude everyone. I offered to teach everyone Hebrew but then Jack laughed and ruffled my hair. I'm learning Spanish now. Do you also know Spanish, Al?”

“Uh, not nearly so much. Enough to get by.” Albert coughed, surprised at the nickname from the small boy. “I do know ASL, though?” 

“Oh no way!” Crutchy exclaimed. “So cool!”

“What's ASL? How come your sister speaks Spanish but not you? I speak Yiddish too.” Les rambled on, until Davey clasped his hand over the small boy's mouth.

“Sorry. He has no filter.” Davey grimaced.

“Nah, it's cool.” Albert pushed his hair back, revealing the dark hearing aids Race had seen earlier. “ASL is American Sign Language. I'm Hard of Hearing, and the aids help but sometimes I just use my hands to talk. I’d be happy to teach you, Les, if you teach me some Hebrew.” The small boy nodded so hard Albert was worried his head would wobble off his neck. “I live with Kath and her family, but we're not technically related. My parents weren't Hispanic, but they were Deaf and taught me ASL.”

“How come you live with…” Romeo started, and then clapped his mouth shut. 

Kath looked suddenly at Albert, who blushed faintly. 

“Sorry bud. You gotta be at least Level 20 Friend to reach my Tragic Backstory.” Albert winked. 

“Oh ho ho.” Jack chuckled. “I like this one. He fits right in.”

The table fell quiet when Jacobi brought enough food to feed twice the number of people. With the promise to see each other at school on Monday, they parted ways. 

*****

The next week passed uneventful:  dance classes spent learning the new choreo, lunch periods spent getting to know new friends and realize why, exactly, Oscar and Morris were such assholes. Albert and Kath learned that Spot and Jack, sometimes called Cowboy, were foster brothers who lived with an intimidatingly loving woman named Medda but grew up together in Brooklyn. Race lived with his older sister, his dad, and his Old World Italian grandmother in the apartment down the street. Crutchy, named because of his crutch and hatred of his “government name” lived with his single mother and mangy dog two streets up in the same building as Specs’ family. Mush and Romeo actually lived closer to Kath and Albert, on the other side of the school. Davey, Sarah, and Les lived near the school with their parents and Bubbe - their grandmother.

Albert tried not to stare at Race during dance class, tried not to watch the smaller boy glide across the floor. On Friday, at the end of class, Denton told the class he'd have partnerships and group assignments for the showcase by Monday. There were only 20 people in the class, but the small class was buzzing with excitement. 

“Oh man oh man oh man” Albert wrung his hands, face tense while they packed their things. 

“What's the big deal?” Sarah asked, voice muffled by a protein bar in her mouth. 

Albert cringed. “Uh. I. Uh…” He stuttered, staring at the shining hardwood floor.

Race raised an eyebrow. “You alright, man?”

Suddenly, Albert felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was too tight, it was too loud, his head was buzzing. Race paled momentarily, and then shoved his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, slung his bag over his shoulder, grabbed Albert’s bag, and stood up. He pulled the taller boy’s arm, tugging him along, Sarah trailing behind, chewing on her protein bar and trying not to trip while she pulled her hoodie over her head. Race guided the trio into a small alley behind the dance studio, dropped the bags he was holding, and gently pulled Albert to sit next to him. Sarah sat down a few feet away, across from them. 

For a moment, the teenagers sat in there, trying to catch their breath. Race quietly texted Kath from his phone, telling her that he was pretty sure Albert was having a panic attack and where they were. 

Albert held his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut, trying to breath, trying desperately not to be too embarrassed on top of his panic. Then he felt warm hands over his wrists. He opened his eyes, and Race had moved. The shorter, curly haired boy was sitting across from him, knees touching. Albert’s eyes widened. Slowly, Race pulled Albert’s hands away from his ears, replacing them with his own calloused hands. 

In a voice barely above a whisper, Race asked, “Is it too loud?” 

Albert cocked his head to one side, trying to be sure he read the other boy’s lips correctly. He nodded slightly. Then he felt Race’s fingers curl around his ears, gently pulling the aids out, carefully placing them in Albert’s outstretched hand. The buzzing in Albert’s head seemed to dim out with the lack of sound. Then, the smaller boy put his finger out, the universal “wait” signal, and rifled around his dance bag for a beat. After a moment, he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, and wrote one word: Better? 

With a slight chuckle, Albert nodded. He signed “thank you,” saying it aloud, wincing just a little. 

“What’s going on?” Race wrote again, showing the pad back to Albert. 

Albert sighed. He shook his shaggy red hair out of his face and scrubbed his free hand down over his eyes. Then he grabbed the pad from Race’s outstretched hand. 

“I don’t want to write it all. But I don’t want to put my aids back in. If I get loud, just tap me.” He waited for Race to nod, and then jerk his head towards Sarah, who had scooted slightly closer. Albert nodded again, gesturing to the pad and to Sarah, who read it and also nodded. 

Looking at the ground, Albert began. He told them about his parents - bright, lively people, both of them active in the Deaf community. They had met at an activists meeting. They had Albert, who had also been born Hard of Hearing, and was raised in a home where ASL was the primary language. New York had several great schools for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing, so Albert had gone to Deaf school for the first several years. The school had dance classes, and he had fallen in love with the beat, the flow, the way it made his body feel. His face lit up when he started talking about dancing, and Race felt his heart constrict. Then, when Albert was 9, his father got sick, and after just a few months, he passed. Sarah gasped, her hand over her mouth. Albert’s now single mother was forced to move to a smaller apartment, and Albert was sent to a “regular” school. He met Kath there, though, which wasn’t bad. He picked up some Spanish, she picked up some ASL, their parents became close. It wasn’t perfect, but it was alright. Albert still went to dance classes, after a little while, but it wasn’t the same. They were regular dance classes, not the ones like they had at his Deaf school. The teachers meant well, and for the most part they were fine. A few of them would snarl at him, tell him he would never be a good enough dancer if he couldn’t hear. But most of them were fine. The kids, they were worse. Mocking his accent, teasing the way he’d put his hands to the floor to feel the bass, purposefully refusing to look at him, or covering their mouths with their hands while they talked. As Albert described it, Race felt his body clench - fists, jaw, gut. But, Albert continued, he kept dancing. He loved it too much to give it up. He danced through elementary school, and middle school. He told them he was even considering joining his old high school’s dance team. Then, the previous fall, his mom died in a building fire. Their apartment went up in flames, and his mom had been asleep. He and Kath had been at school, her parents both at work, and for some reason the lights didn’t flash, and of course, his mom hadn’t heard the alarm. Albert was going to be paid a pretty substantial amount of money for it, because of the ADA, and the insurance, and the apartment company didn’t want to get sued. But, his mom was gone. Everything he owned was gone, including all the pictures of his father, except for one of the three of them that he had kept in his locker at school. They lived in a homeless shelter and then a temporary apartment for nearly a year.

By this point, Sarah was openly crying. Race rested his hand on Albert’s knee, gently. Albert looked up at him, teary eyed, and smiled slowly. He reached into his dance bag, which Race had placed next to him on the ground. He pulled a folded picture out of his wallet, unfolded it, and silently handed it to Race. It was a picture of his small family, taken only a few weeks before they found out his dad was sick. Tiny Albert, with his shocking red hair, just like his dad’s, and a smile as bright as his mom’s. The whole family looked like they were laughing. Race traced the picture, smiling. Sarah leaned in to look at it, grinning brightly at Albert. 

So, Albert gulped back the tears that were threatening to pour down his face and took a deep breath. The courts had finally decided that Kath’s family could take him in, and they got ready to move into a more permanent place. Conveniently, Kath’s dad had just gotten a transfer at work, and they moved to Manhattan just before the summer ended. That’s why they started school a couple weeks late. Albert had found this dance studio online, everyone said Denton was the best. 

Sarah nodded. “He is the best,” she scribbled on the notepad sitting on Race’s left knee.  

Albert chuckled. With a slight grimace, he put his hearing aids back into his ears. “He’s pretty great. But nobody wants to partner with the sad Deaf kid, Sarah.”

Race gasped. “Blasphemy!” He clutched his hand to his chest. 

“Yeah,” Sarah smirked. “Race would love to partner with you.” 

Race turned beat red. He hissed out between his teeth, “ _ Ti ucciderò. Di fronte a questo bellissimo ragazzo. Morirai. _ ”

Albert felt his breath catch for a much different reason. He coughed slightly. “Hey, isn’t there some kind of rule about not speaking the language if not everyone understands it?” He chanced a smile at the shorter boy, who was clearly pouting. 

Race smiled brightly. “I could teach you Italian.” he paused slightly. “On one condition.”

Albert raised an eyebrow. 

“You gotta teach me to sign.” He demanded, his flush fading to the tips of his ears. 

“Deal.” 

Race punched the air. “Yes!” His grin was broad, face shining. 

Albert made a fist with his right hand, his thumb in front of his fingers, and quickly moved it in an up and down movement in front of his chest, smiling slightly. Sarah and Race raised their eyebrows slightly. 

“It means yes.” He did the sign again. “That’s your first lesson.” 

Race clenched his fist in front of his chest, mimicking the movement the taller boy had done. 

“Yes, perfect!” Albert’s smile widened, and Race felt a glow in his chest. 

Sarah’s phone suddenly started ringing, the bright jingle blaring in the cooling alley. 

“Oh shit.” She looked at her phone, Kath was calling. “Race, did you ever text Kath back?” Sarah looked at Race. 

“Oops…” Race’s eyes widened. 

Sarah quickly answered the call. “Hey Kath. No, we’re all good now, I think.” She paused and looked at Albert, who nodded quickly. “Yeah. We could meet you at your place.” Albert made a grabby hand at the phone. “Hold on, Albert wants to talk to you.” She handed the phone to the red-headed boy. 

“Hey Kath.” He paused, listening. “Yeah, I’m good.” Pause again. “No, my phone is still on silent from class. Sorry. Yeah, I’ll bring them over.” Pause. “Dinner? Well, then we’re stopping at their building, we’re all gross and they’re gonna want to shower. We’ll be like, an hour I guess.” Kath and Race nodded in agreement. “Okay. Yeah,  _ te amo tambien _ . Here’s Sarah.”

He handed the phone back to Sarah and stood up. She quickly ended the call and shoved her phone in her pocket. 

“Alright then.” Race said, stretching his legs as he stood. “Guess we better hurry, if Sarah wants to look even remotely presentable.” He winked at his friend. 

“Oh, shut up, pretty boy. You’re liable to take twice as long.” Sarah shoved Race with her shoulder and started walking. She turned around. “Albert, how do you sign pretty boy?”

He paused for a moment. “Uh…” 

“You don’t in good conscious.” Race muttered. 

“Alright, Kronk.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Albert, don’t you think our Anthony is pretty?” She smirked. 

Both boys turned bright red. Albert coughed and Race shoved his hat back on his head, glaring at Sarah. Then Albert moved his hand in a circle around his face, closing it to a fist in front of his chin, and then pinched his fingers and thumb together in front of his forehead.

“Pretty boy.” He smiled softly, shoving his fists in his pockets and looking directly at Race.

Race smiled into the collar of his jacket, and the trio walked the couple of blocks to the apartment building Race’s family lived. When he opened the front door, Sarah turned abruptly and told them to meet at her house in 30 minutes, and left them in front of the building. In silence, Race guided the taller boy up one floor and down the hallway until they were in front of his apartment.

“Uh…” Race shuffled for a second. “So, my dad is probably still at work, he works late tonight. But Nonna is probably home. And my sister. She’s about to graduate high school so she’s really stressed. I mostly just leave her alone. Nonna doesn’t speak great English, and she thinks Sarah and I are gonna get married one day, no matter what we tell her. Just to warn you.”

Albert chuckled. “Does she know…?”

“That Sarah and I are both super gay?” Race raised an eyebrow. “Uh. Yeah. Somehow, that hasn’t stopped her.”

“Oh. Well...that’s fun and different, I suppose.” 

Race shrugged. “We make do. It’s not like, a refusal to accept thing. It’s like a ‘You both could have other partners, that’s fine, some weird implication that that’s how they did it back in the day and we’d make pretty babies’ thing.” 

Albert slowly drew his hand, palm facing him, fingers up, under his chin and towards the door Race was trying to open without looking, and whistled low. 

“What does that mean?” Race asked, finally managing to open the door and step inside, closing it behind Albert. 

“Fuck.” he muttered quietly, taking note of the ancient looking woman in a black dress sitting about 5 yards away from him. “As in...what the fuck?” 

Race giggled. He straight up giggled. Then he called out, raising his voice significantly, “Nonna?” 

“Anthony!” her voice shook slightly, and was heavily accented. “ _ Dove eri? Ho cominciato a preoccuparmi. _ ”

“ _ Mi dispiace, Nonna. Qualcosa è venuto dopo la pratica _ .” Race rolled his eyes slightly, walking to place a gentle kiss against his grandmother’s wrinkled cheek. 

Albert felt his entire body grow warm. He had no idea what Race was saying, but listening to the boy’s tongue curl around his native tongue was curling Albert’s stomach into the most complicated of knots. He stepped into the living room, hearing Race say his name. 

“Albert, this is my Nonna.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Nonna, this is my friend Albert. I’m going to dinner at his house.” 

Albert reached his hand out to shake the old woman’s hand, and she stood up and wrapped him in a hug, kissing his cheek. She only came up to about his sternum, but Albert was sure it was the strongest hug he’d gotten in maybe his whole life. 

“None of this handshake  _ spazzatura _ .” Albert squinted, trying to read Nonna’s lips, the words muddled by a thick accent. “Where I come from, we hug.” 

He nodded, stepping back slightly when she let go. “It’s...uh...nice to meet you.” Suddenly, he felt self-conscious, vividly aware of his own accent.  

Nonna just smiled. “Anthony, go shower. You stink like the heavens. Be home before your father gets off work.”

Race shook his head slightly. “It’s  _ too _ the heavens, Nonna. I stink  _ too _ the heavens.”

She just brushed the boys off, and Race grabbed Albert’s arm, dragging him down a short hallway to a door with a sign on it that read “Racetrack’s Room Do Not Enter Non Entrare” in bold letters. Race pushed the door open and pulled Albert inside. He dropped the taller boy’s arm when he shut the door behind them, and Albert felt like his arm was still tingling where Race’s warm hand had been clasped around it. The room was dark, decorated in deep blues, with a wall full of pictures in front of a small desk. It wasn’t a big room, just enough for the desk, a dresser topped with knick knacks, various hair products, and a half dozen half empty glasses of water, and an unmade double bed, the plaid bedspread shoved in the bottom corner and a small wolf stuffed animal near the pillows. Albert stood silently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, taking it all in. Race flicked on the lamp that sat on his desk, and Albert realized the pictures were all of his friends - recognized most of them: Sarah, Jack, Davey, Crutchy, Spot, and the others. There were several of Sarah and Race in different dance recital outfits, at different ages. 

“Oh no. Nice glitter tux, Racetrack.” Albert laughed, tossing his head back, making the sign again for pretty. 

Race was torn between the fluttering feeling in his gut at the sound of Albert’s laughter and groaning because he had hated that costume so much. 

“Merde. I hated that damn costume. It itched so badly.” 

“How old were you?”

“Like 10. It was a nightmare. Jack and Spot laughed for WEEKS.” He rolled his eyes. “Then Sarah punched Jack in the nose, because they really were horrible costumes and hers itched too and we were so tired of them, and Jack stopped.” 

Albert nodded, leaning closer to look at all of the pictures. 

“Well. Uhm. I’m going to go shower. I’ll be back in a bit.” Race gulped a little. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

Albert nodded again, sitting down on the wooden desk chair and taking out his phone. Race grabbed some clean pants from his dresser and tried not to think about how natural the muscular boy looked sitting in his room, legs stretched out in front of him. 

As soon as the door clicked shut again, Albert opened several texts from Kath. The first several were asking if he was okay and then freaking out that he didn’t answer. There were like 10 missed calls from that period of time as well. Then there were several more suggestive ones asking if he was at Race’s house. The use of winky face emojis was far too liberal. 

“I am in his room, Kath.” Albert texted back, trying not to breathe too heavily. The whole room smelled like Race, like hair product and somehow, floor polish. 

His phone immediately buzzed with a text back from his best friend. “ _ Dios mio _ . Tell me everything.”

He laughed quietly. “He has a wall full of pictures of all his friends, and a tiny wolf stuffed animal on his bed.” He hit send, and then thought for a moment. “And more hair product than you do. Didn’t know that was possible.” 

“ _ ¡Oye! _ ” Kath responded quickly. “But that’s adorable. Are you in heaven?”

“Don’t be weird, Kath.”

“So you are?”

“I am not. But I am maybe crushing on him super hard. His grandma is here, he calls her Nonna and speaks fluent Italian to her and I have no idea what he’s saying but fuck it’s hot.”

“Oh damn. Deaf boy got a language kink.”

“I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

“But that’s sweet that he lives with his grandma. I think my dad would love it if Abuela moved in with us.”

“Your mom would explode.”

“Almost certainly.” And then “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Literally just sitting at his desk while he showers.”

“Ooooo.”

“Go to hell.”

“Whatever, Al. He likes you, too.”

“Yeah right. How would you know?”

“Sarah told me.”

“Oh Sarah told you, did she?”

“Oh no you don’t. Don’t turn this on me.”

“Fine, fine. Seriously. Did Sarah actually use those words? She told you Race likes me?”

“God, what is this? Kindergarten?” Albert raised his eyebrow at his phone, and it buzzed again almost immediately. “Yeah, she told me he blushes any time anyone mentions you at all and stares at you in dance class.”

“Fuck off.” Albert typed, and then the door started to open. “He’s coming back. I’ll text you when we’re on the way.”

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, but not before seeing her response buzz through. “Have fun, lover boy ;)” 

“Everything alright?” Race nodded towards Albert’s pocket, where he had stashed his phone. 

Albert looked up, and realized Race was standing about 3 feet away from him in nothing but a pair of black jeans, with a towel draped around his shoulders. His curls were still dripping. Albert gulped.

He signed yes, a brief, quick knock of his fist. “Yeah, Kath is just a pain in the ass.” 

Race chuckled. “She and Sarah would make a great pair.” he began digging through his dresser for a clean shirt with no holes.

Eager for the distraction, Albert commented, “Oh, I’m sure. It helps that Kath is wildly in love with Sarah anyway.” 

Race was pulling a grey, long sleeved henley over his damp curls, and Albert took advantage of the smaller boy’s lack of sight by staring blatantly at his olive-toned abdomen. He had a dancer’s lithe build, slender, but muscular, and Albert felt his face get warm. He looked down at his hands, which were clasped in his lap. 

Race’s shocked face emerged from the neck hole of his shirt. “Are you serious? Because Sarah is practically obsessed with Kath. It’s getting real annoying.” 

While Race massaged hair product into his curls and finished getting ready, and Albert made the sign for pretty boy in the mirror behind Race to tease him, they plotted ways to get Sarah and Kath together. They continued plotting, speculating as to the nature of Spot and Blink’s relationship, bemoaning how grossly adorable Crutchy and Jack and Davey were, and bitching about the Delancy’s new source of entertainment - Albert’s hearing aids. 

“I’ve had them my whole damn life. I don’t understand why it’s so entertaining to them.” Albert rolled his eyes. 

Race felt his fingers clench into fists in his jacket pockets, the urge to find Oscar or Morris and beat them black and blue overcoming him. He may have to have a word with Jack and Spot about it later. 

“Yeah, they’re not exactly the brightest around. Their material is pretty tired.” Race scoffed, trying to keep his tone even and light.

“Whatever. Not the first time, probably won’t be the last.” Albert looked at the shorter boy, noting the tension in his sharp jawline. He shoved the shorter boy lightly with his shoulder. “Hey. Race. Seriously. I’m good. They’re idiots.” He made a fist with his right hand, his pinky out and up, and tapped the fist against his forehead, fingers perpendicular to his face. 

Race cocked his head, mimicking the movement. “Does that mean idiot?”

Albert knocked his fist in front of his chest. “Yep.”

“Excellent.” He paused a moment. “It’s not exactly difficult to say in Italian. Just  _ idiota _ . Or  _ lo stupido _ .” 

Albert laughed. “Much better in ASL.” 

They turned the corner and approached the Jacobs’ home. “Prepare to be bombarded.” Race grimaced a little. “They are a loud family.” 

Albert just raised his eyebrow. 

“You’ll see.” Race started to knock on the door when it swung open. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours, Ma!” Sarah shouted behind her, adding to the screaming and banging coming from inside the house.

She pushed past Race and shut the door quickly. 

“Is...uh...is everything okay?” Albert stuttered a second. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Jack was watching Les and he was supposed to be doing his homework, but then Davey and Crutchy came back from the store and Les and Jack were both covered in paint and so was the kitchen but Bubbe kept going on about the beautiful paintings and my mom is making dinner but found a bunch of paintbrushes in the sink, but she loves Jack and now Bubbe is trying to get Jack to paint the walls and Crutchy is trying to help Les with his English homework and I think Davey at some point just had to leave the room.” 

“Uh…” Albert felt frozen. 

“I have a very energetic family. Davey has autism, though. So sometimes it’s hard for him, with all the noise. He’ll be okay.” 

“He’d hate to live in a Deaf house.” Albert said with a chuckle.

“But, isn’t it…” Sarah started. 

“Quiet? Far from it.” Albert interrupted with a grin. “My mom had some hearing, but my dad didn’t have any at all, and he was the loudest of all three of us. If you can’t hear, you have no idea how loud you’re being. A room full of Deaf people can be, if you’ll excuse the pun, deafening. Plus, our house had all kinds of flashing lights for alerts and random shit vibrated all the time. The first time Kath was at my mom’s apartment and the lights flashed when the doorbell rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin. After the fire, I got a bed that vibrates if the fire alarm goes off.” He shrugged.

“Well shit.” Race muttered. 

“So, Deaf puns...on the table?” Sarah looked at Albert hopefully as they walked down the sidewalk. 

“Only always. Kath likes to make PAN sexual jokes, too, all the time because she loves carbs and also is super queer.” 

“Oh no. Her too?” Race groaned. “No one tell Romeo. He’s been making that pun since like, middle school.”

“I’m not surprised.” 

They finally reached the apartment building where Albert lived, and he lead them upstairs. The apartment was warm and smelled delicious. 

“Elena!?” Albert called. 

“ _ ¡En la cocina! _ ” A woman’s voice called back to him. 

He hung his coat by the door and slipped out of his shoes, dropping his bag next to them and putting his keys in a dish next to the coat rack. “I have guests.  _ En ingles, por favor. _ ” 

Kath came skittering into the entryway, sliding on the hardwood in her socks, bumping into the end table on the way. “Ow. Shit. Hi!” Her eyes were bright. “Are you good, man?”

“I am fine, Katherine. I have told you a hundred times, I am fine.” He rolled his eyes, tapping his thumb to his chest with the rest of his fingers outstretched, and gestured for Race and Sarah to follow him. “Are y’all thirsty or anything?” 

“Uh, water?” Race’s throat was inexplicably dry. 

They walked into the kitchen, where a tan, middle aged woman was cooking. “Hi Elena. Sorry we’re so late.” Albert walked over and hunched to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

“It’s alright, Katherine explained.” She smiled fondly. “You’re okay, though?”

He made the same gesture, thumb to his chest, and nodded. She nodded back.

“Who are your friends, then?” Elena gestured with her head to Sarah and Race, who were standing awkwardly on the other side of the counter. 

“Oh, sorry.” Albert rubbed his closed fist to his chest in a circle. “This is Sarah, and this is Race.” 

“Race?” Elena raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s a nickname. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” Race’s throat felt even drier. “You can call me Tony.”

“Would you prefer Race?”

“Uh...almost always.” As if reading his mind, Albert pressed a glass of cold water into his hand. He took a huge gulp.

“Alright then, Race. And please, it’s Elena. None of this ma’am nonsense.”

Sarah perched herself on a stool at the counter, next to Kath. “It’s nice to meet you, Elena. What are you making?” 

While Sarah and Kath started chatting with Elena, Albert grabbed Race by the elbow and pulled him out of the kitchen. 

“I’ll show you around.” 

Race nodded. 

“This is the living room. Very exciting, I’m sure.” In the corner, there was a small altar with a tall candle and some flowers on it. “Richard should be home soon, probably.” 

Albert guided them down a narrow hallway, pointing out where the bathroom was, and finally opened a door. “I haven’t had much time to decorate or anything, but this is my room.” He gestured around. 

A hastily made bed was pushed in the corner, and the dresser had a few framed pictures. Albert and his mom and Kath and her mom, Albert and Kath, and one picture that looked like a copy of the picture Albert had shown them earlier. Race felt his chest tighten again. There was a hoodie draped over the desk chair and a bookshelf half filled with books. 

“It’s much cleaner than mine…” Race tried for humor, but his voice was still choked, recalling Albert’s face when he had told them how much he had lost. 

“Well, we haven’t lived here long. And when you lose nearly everything in a fire…” he trailed off. “Sorry. I think that was supposed to be a joke, but it just came out depressing as hell.”

Race gulped down some water. “That’s okay. Some shit’s still hard to laugh about, you know? My mom died when I was really little, and my dad could barely talk about her without crying for years. He still almost never does.” 

“Jesus, Tony. I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Albert put his arm on Race’s shoulder and for a moment, the only thing Race could focus on was the heat and weight of the hand on his body. And the way his actual name sounded from Albert’s mouth. 

“Ah, uh. It’s cool. She got into an accident on the way home from work. I don’t remember her much. But she’s the one who taught me to dance, you know?” He smiled fondly at the memory. “I used to dance around the living room on her feet. My dad said she’d dance me around in her arms before I could even walk.” He paused again. “I knew we were gonna be okay when my dad put on the songs she used to dance to, and Nikki and I danced around the living room like we used to.”

“How’d you meet Sarah?” Albert asked, suddenly. 

“Oh! Uh, my dad put me in dance classes, partially because he worked so late and didn’t want me at home alone all afternoon, and Nikki was always in her clubs and stuff for gifted kids. Sarah was in class with me. We became friends, I guess, and I used to spend a lot of time at their house before Nonna moved in with us. Even after. My place was so quiet for a long time.” He shrugged. “She’s a good friend.” Then he laughed. “Don’t tell her I told you this, she would kill me. But when we were in middle school, she was pretty sure she was a lesbian, and Jack was pretty sure he was gay. But they wanted to test the theory, so they kissed. Jack was her first kiss, and she said it was the most disgusting thing she’d ever done. Then she kissed a girl in her Hebrew school and hasn’t kissed another boy since. She still sometimes jokes that Jack made her gay.” 

Albert’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. Does Davey know?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. We all do. It’s hysterical, because for as much as Sarah says Jack made her gay, he says the same thing about her, and any time he does, Davey throws his hands up and goes ‘ _ Nakh a mzl _ ’ which basically means thank goodness in Yiddish and we all vomit a little.”

Albert made a face, and held his open hand perpendicular to his face, with his thumb against his lower lip, and swept it down, miming puking while he did it. Race laughed, a deep belly laugh, and Albert felt his face grow warmer. 

“So, uh. I’m gonna go shower?” Albert lifted his right hand above his head and flicked his fingers out towards his hair. “If you want to chill here, you can. I doubt they’ll even notice.” He nodded towards the kitchen. 

Race flopped backwards onto the bed, and pulled his phone out. “If I fall asleep, wake me up when the food is ready.” 

Albert just rolled his eyes and pulled clean, comfortable pants out of his dresser. Without looking at Race, he pulled his aids out and put them in the dish that sat on his dresser, and left the room. 

He returned shortly, red hair dripping into his eyes, track pants slung low on his hips. Race looked up from when he returned and gulped audibly, his jaw dropping slightly. Albert furrowed his brow, finger signing “OK” to the boy half propped up on his elbows, laying on his bed, hoping the question would come across. 

Race coughed into his arm, sitting upright, face flushing. “Uh...yeah, yeah, I’m good.” 

Albert cocked his head to one side, and gestured at Race to wait. The other boy’s voice sounded like it was coming to Albert through an entire ocean, and as beautiful as he thought Race’s face was, he couldn’t keep staring at his mouth without beginning to have some incredibly uncomfortable thoughts. Quickly, Albert dried his hair as much as possible, and slid his hearing aids back in, wincing slightly at the onslaught of sound. 

“Sorry about that…” he turned back to face Race, who looked very much like he was trying not to stare.  _ Maybe Kath was right,  _ Albert thought to himself with a small grin. 

“Dude. You don’t need to apologize to me. At all.” Race rubbed the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. 

“Well, here. If you want to say you’re fine, just do this.” Albert stepped forward and took Race’s right hand, guiding into the right position, right at the shorter boy’s chest, and then showed him what to do. Race felt his breath catch in his throat.

They ate dinner squeezed around a kitchen table when Richard, Kath’s dad, came home from work. Race’s leg kept bumping against Albert’s under the table, and Kath and Sarah were shoulder to shoulder. Elena and Richard were friendly and warm, asking how they met, and about school in a way that was instantly endearing. 

As Sarah and Race were leaving, Sarah turned. “Oh, you guys are coming to Jack’s this weekend, right?”

Kath and Albert looked at each other. “I think I heard Jack mention something about a party at his place or something?” Kath raised her eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s Spot’s birthday, so we’re having a party.”

“We didn’t get him anything!” Kath looked alarmed. 

Race piped up. “Don’t. We don’t even have cake. If you so much as mention that it’s Spot’s birthday he gets all cranky and pissed off, so. We don’t even really call it a party. We just go and hang out at Jack’s house. Play video games and watch movies and eat too much pizza.”

“Uh, why?” Albert asked, brow furrowed. 

Sarah shrugged, and Race stuffed his hands in his pockets. He knew, but only because Jack was his best friend, and Spot was a close second, and Spot had been furiously seething that he didn’t want a fucking birthday party and then started crying all of a sudden. They were only 12 at the time, and it was, to date, the only time Race had seen Spot cry. But it wasn’t his story to tell, wasn’t his tragic backstory to - 

“Remember how you said you had to be a level 20 friend to unlock your tragic backstory?” Race asked, looking up. 

Albert nodded, and then Kath did too. 

“I think you have to be a level 100 friend for Spot to unlock that one. He doesn’t talk about it. Ever.” 

“Fair. So, the not-a-birthday-party, then.” Albert’s face was solemn. “Where is it? Should we bring snacks or anything?”

“Oh, more food is always welcome. And any video games or DVDs if you have ‘em and want to play ‘em.” Sarah smiled, and the tone was less serious. 

“Yeah, it’s at Medda’s apartment. She’s great, real funny.” Race agreed. 

“Where...where is it?”

“Oh! I’ll text you the address.” Sarah offered. 

“How about you just come to my place, and then we’ll walk together? It’s right down the street from me, and I can make sure you get there okay.” Race offered when Albert’s face fell. “Do you remember how to get to my place?”

“Uh…” Albert screwed up his face a little and if Race thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, he didn’t feel it necessary to mention. 

“I’ll send you the address. And directions. It’s easy.”

*****

The next day, Race woke up too early. Way too early. He went for a run just to try to burn off the energy pooling in his gut, and when he got back, Nikki was sitting at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of coffee. 

“Why so awake,  _ fratellino _ ?” she smirked at him over her mug. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” He started banging around in the kitchen, gathering the things he needed to make a smoothie. 

Nikki hummed. “Something to do with a red haired dancer?”

Race felt himself blush. “ _ Vaffanculo _ .”

She hissed. “Such language, Anthony.”

“Bite me.”

She got up and put her mug in the sink. She was wearing her work clothes, a black v neck and dark skinny jeans with chunky black boots, and kissed the side of Race’s head. “He’s cute, Race. You should ask him out.”

Race just grumbled. 

“Also, you’re sweaty and disgusting and need to shower.” She ruffled his curls. 

He swatted her hand away. “Get off me, stupid sister.”

“Have fun at your not-party. Tell Sarah I said hey.”

“I will. Have fun at the cafe.”

“I won’t.” She grabbed her purse and a hoodie off the hook by the door and went to leave. “ _ Ciao _ !”

Race waved, not really looking. “ _ Ciao _ !”

He finished his smoothie and then went to the bathroom. He could hear his dad stirring in the room down the hall. Nonna was probably already at the market. He showered quickly, knowing his dad would be annoyed if he used all the hot water. He toweled dry and then stood in front of his closet in his boxers for far too long before giving up and calling Sarah. 

She answered after the second ring. “What?”

“What should I wear?”

He could practically hear her smile. “Why are you worried about it?”

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful, Sarah. You know exactly why.”

She hummed slightly. “Well, according to Kath -”

“Oh ho, according to Kath…” Race smirked. 

“Do you want my help or not?”

He flopped onto the desk chair. “Yes, yes. Please.”

“Alright then. According to Kath, he liked the suspenders, and the leather jacket. Wear your black jeans, the almost-skinny ones.”

“You’re a life saver.”

“I know.”

“You should wear your new black dress.” He offered in return.

“The really soft one?”

Race nodded, and then remembered she wouldn’t be able to see him. “Yeah. With your high tops.”

“ _ Bentshn deyn harts. _ ”

“See ya later.”

Race pulled his black jeans on with a dark grey t-shirt. It was worn and soft and comfortable and he threw an equally worn red and grey and black flannel on over it, attaching his suspenders to the pants and leaving them hanging off his hips. He did his hair and then looked at the clock. Still 30 minutes before Albert and Kath were supposed to arrive. He smelled something good coming from the kitchen and decided to waste some time. 

Race’s dad was standing in the kitchen in flannel lounge pants and a white t-shirt making espresso and chewing on biscotti. He looked up when his son entered. 

“Want a coffee?”

“Did you just wake up,  _ Papà _ ?” Race slid into the seat across from the stove. 

The older man shrugged, and then nodded. “Busy week.” He slid the small cup of espresso across the counter to his son. 

“Where’s Nonna?” Race asked before he took a sip. 

The apartment door rattled open, and the elderly woman in question came in with a small push cart full of groceries. She took her long coat off and smiled. 

_ “I miei bei ragazzi!”  _ She cried when she saw them in the kitchen. 

Race jumped down from his seat and dragged the cart over to the kitchen. Nonna kissed both his cheeks, and then both of his dad’s cheeks. 

_ “Vai a vestirti.”  _ She swatted Race’s dad’s arm. Race smiled.  _ “ _ Anthony _ ha amici in arrivo!” _

Race’s dad just rolled his eyes and took his own cup of espresso down the hall to his room, patting his son on the back as he went. Race helped his Nonna put the groceries away while she chattered mindlessly about the ladies at the market. She left a package of Italian chocolate cookies on the counter and told him to take them to the party. 

Then there was a knock at the door. Race’s eyes grew wide. Nonna just laughed and patted his arm. 

_ “Non lasciare i tuoi amici in attesa.” _

Race jolted and then slid to the door. He pulled it open. Albert was standing there in artfully ripped and faded blue jeans, wearing a black v-neck shirt that looked impossibly soft and a dark zippered hoodie. Race blinked a couple of times. 

Kath held up a canvas bag filled with what looked like snacks. “Ready to go?” 

Race jolted again, and looked at the smiling girl. She was wearing bright colored leggings, tall boots not unlike the ones Race’s sister was wearing, and some baggy sweater type thing. He smiled, thinking that Sarah was going to lose her ever loving mind. 

“Uh, yeah. I just need to put my shoes on and grab my jacket.” He pulled the door wider and gestured them. 

“Albert, you’ve met my Nonna. Nonna,” he called loudly over his shoulder. “This is Kathryn, and you know Albert. I’m going to grab my shoes.” 

He skittered down the hallway and almost smacked into his dad. The man put his hands gently on Race’s shoulders. 

“Easy there, kid. It’s not a race.” He winked and walked away.

Race paused, listening to his dad introduce himself, “Call me Nick, please,” and then bolted into his room and pulled his own boots on, grabbing his leather jacket from the closet. He clomped back down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

“Be safe. Don’t drink, no drugs, don’t do anything illegal. Try to avoid getting into any fights.” Race’s dad’s face was passive and his voice almost bored. 

“Dad.” Race rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not bailing you out.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Race leaned over and kissed his Nonna on the cheek.  _ “Ti amo, Nonna.”  _

_ “Ti amo, Anthony. Divertiti.” _ She pat his cheek and pushed the package of cookies into his hands, and then pushed him towards the door. 

“Love you, Dad!” Race called, grabbing his keys and heading out the door with Albert and Kath in tow.

“Love you, Tony. Be careful!”

They made it to the elevator before Kath asked, “Have you been to jail?”

Race rolled his eyes. “Uh, not exactly.”

Albert raised his eyebrow.

Race sighed. “When Jack and I first became friends, when he first moved in with Medda, we were young. And stupid and angry at the world. And then Spot moved in with Medda, too. Then we met the Delanceys. And they were giving us shit, started talking shit about our families, because my mom’s dead, and Jack’s...well, Jack’s mom is dead, too, and his dad is in prison. He doesn’t mind telling people. Spot’s family, well. We don’t talk about that, as you know. Anyway, the Delanceys apparently hadn’t gotten the memo and tried to give Spot shit about it. I’m not really sure how it happened, but punches started being thrown and shit, someone called the cops. We didn’t get in trouble, we were kids, but. They called my dad and Medda, and they had to come pick us up at the station. I got QUITE the talking to about that. Things have been better since then, though. I guess my dad realized that refusing to talk about my mom wasn’t helping in any way.”

“So, you don’t drink and do drugs and pick fights with people on the streets?” Kath grinned as they walked down the street below.

“I mean, I smoke weed now and then and will back Jack or Spot up in a fight if they need it, but. No, no, and no.” 

“Do they fight a lot?” Albert’s voice was quiet.

“Used to.” Race shrugged. “They’ve had...well, a rough life. Mostly it’s defensive. Either in defense of themselves, or someone who can’t defend themselves. Jack’s got a ridiculous moral compass and Spot mostly just listens to Jack. Most of the time.”

They arrived at the apartment and Jack threw the door open. “Racetrack!” he cried. “You brought reinforcements!”

Race looked at his friends with a grimace. He put his hand in a fist and rubbed it in a circle on his chest. “It’s like being friends with a giant golden retriever.” 

Albert felt his face warm while he watched Race sign the apology. He patted his leg and then made a motion like he was snapping his fingers in front of his body. Race, who had been practicing the alphabet, finger spelled d-o-g with a questioning look on his face. Albert nodded. Race mimicked Albert’s movements, and he nodded again. Jack looked confused and Kath just smirked.

“Aye, Cowboy, who’s here!?” a shout echoed from inside the apartment. Blink, probably.

“Race, and Albert, and Kath!” He yelled back over his shoulder, and opened the door wider for them to walk by. 

Race looked at Albert and finger spelled c-o-w-b-o-y with the same questioning look. Albert thought for a moment, and then made a gesture like he was pulling guns from hip holsters and laughed. Race smiled, bright and amused, then pointed to Jack’s retreating back, patted his hip, and then with the same hand, made the same motion. Albert nodded, his smile crinkling his face. Jack lead them to the kitchen. 

A tall, dark skinned woman with bright pink strands in the braids all over her head was standing at the counter icing cupcakes with Crutchy. She looked up when they walked in. “Tony, how are you? Who are your friends?”

Race grimaced. They had never been able to convince Medda to use any of their nicknames. She called Spot “Sean” all the time and once Romeo had tried but the glare on Spot’s face had stopped him before it got too far. 

“Hi Medda. This is Albert, and this is Kath. They just moved, Albert is in dance classes with me and Sarah.” He gestured to his friends. Jack was trying to convince Crutchy to let him have some icing. 

“Hi ma’am,” Kath leaned forward, hand outstretched. “I brought some chips and stuff, and I think Race’s Nonna put some cookies of some kind in here.”

Medda wiped her hands on the shocking pink apron she was wearing and waved them, putting both hands out to hug Kath. Kath allowed herself to be enveloped in the hug. 

“None of this ma’am nonsense. It’s Medda, please.” She turned toward Albert, who flushed red and then let himself be hugged as well, a little stiff.

“Nice to meet you, Medda.” he murmured, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Such manners!” She cooed, clapping him on the back and taking the bag from Kath. 

Sarah careened into the room, followed by a disgruntled looking David. She gave Race a loud kiss on his cheek. “Did Nonna send the cookies!” she cried out. 

Medda handed her the package wordlessly. 

“I love Nonna so much.” She grabbed Kath by the hand. “Have you tried these yet?”

Kath managed to shake her head before Sarah was dragging her back the way she came. Albert smiled into his elbow and coughed a little. Kath turned around and glared at him. 

David rubbed his temple and then smiled at Race and Albert. “Hey guys, how’s it going.”

“Davey, rescue me!” Crutchy cried. Jack had managed to get his fingers in the icing bowl and was now trying to paint the shorter boy’s face. Crutchy was leaning back against the counter trying to fend Jack off with his crutch. 

Davey tried to look exasperated but only managed to look vaguely fond. “Jack…”

Medda turned around and swatted her foster son with a dish towel. “Jack Kelly, you leave that boy alone and let him finish icing the cupcakes or I’m ordering only pizzas with mushrooms on them!” 

Jack had the decency to look kind of apologetic and gasped dramatically. “You would never!” He held his hand to his chest. 

Race rolled his eyes, and reached out to Albert. Albert allowed himself to be taken by the hand, and Race flushed at the warm feeling of the hand in his. He pulled Albert to the living room around the corner. Blink and Spot were staring intently at a game of Mario Kart, Romeo and Mush were arguing over who got to play next, Les was reading a comic book, and Kath and Sarah were curled together on a loveseat sharing the cookies. Race reached over and grabbed a couple of them, handing one to Albert, and pulling him onto the sofa Les was sitting on. Les looked momentarily affronted until Race grabbed the kid’s feet and propped them up on his lap. 

“Who’s winning?” He asked around a mouthful of cookie. 

Blink grumbled. “I’m pretty sure beating a blind kid isn’t actually a remarkable feat.”

Mush laughed out loud. “It is when you beat literally everyone but him and Jack.”

Spot just smiled as his character, Yoshi, started cheering on the first place podium. “Aww, Blinks, don’t be mad.” He bumped his shoulder into the taller boy who was scowling at him. “It’s not my fault I’m unbeatable.”

Blink just rolled his eyes. “Smug fucking bastard.” He passed the controller to Romeo and wandered away muttering about potato chips.

“Are you actually unbeatable?” Albert asked after a moment. 

Spot turned around and winked, expression unreadable. 

“He’s the only one who beats Cowboy.” Les offered over the top of his comic book. 

Albert smiled. “Can I play winner?”

Mush blinked and Spot and Romeo paused their character choosing. 

Sarah whistled low. “Brave move, new kid.” she grinned. 

He shrugged. “Not saying I’m gonna win, I just wanna know what it’s like to play someone who’s unbeatable.” 

Kath frowned at him from her place practically on Sarah’s lap. He raised his eyebrows. She smirked. She pushed her fists, thumbs facing each other, out from her torso and then knocked one fist towards herself, opposite hand on her wrist, and pointed at Race.  _ Try beat him? _ Albert just nodded with a small smile. Race watched the exchange with a curious expression and then turned to Albert, who just gave a small shake of his head. 

Specs walked into the room while Romeo and Spot’s race started, holding a bowl of popcorn, and slid onto the floor in front of Les, greeting everyone. Blink returned with an open bag of chips in one hand and an unopened bag of pretzels in the other. He tossed the pretzels to Mush and put a chip into Spot’s awaiting open mouth. Jack entered with an armful of soda cans and followed by Davey holding two trays of cupcakes. Crutchy came in and fell onto the armchair on top of Mush, who only pretended to complain and then offered Crutchy the pretzels. 

“Medda says the pizza’ll be here in like 30 minutes,” Jack told the room at large and then offered a root beer and another comic to Les, who smiled up at the older boy like the sun was shining out of his face. 

“Stop trying to win my kid brother over,” Sarah groused. Jack just threw a soda can at her, which she caught with alarming grace. 

The passed the time cheering Romeo on in his futile attempt to beat Spot, and chatting about school and classes and dumb stuff. After about 10 minutes, Yoshi was standing on the first place podium again, Spot was cheering, and Romeo was laying back on the floor groaning. 

“It’s not fu-” He looked behind him at Les, who had perked his ears up, “Not fair” He corrected himself. 

“I’m the king of Mario Kart!” Spot crowed gleefully. Blink rolled his eyes and shoved the shorter boy slightly, hand lingering on his bicep. Spot blushed every so slightly around the ears. 

Romeo finally pushed himself off the floor. “Alright, Albert. Get ready to lose.” He handed the redhead the controller.

Albert bit back a smile and looked over at Kath. She held her right hand parallel to the floor, palm down, and knocked the side of her left hand to the underside, thumb up, and then made a grabbing motion with both hands.  _ Kick ass. _ Albert just shrugged. He took the controller from Romeo, and then reached up and pulled his hearing aids out. He handed them to Race, who took them with a confused look. 

_ Thanks _ , he signed, and then sat down. The sound around him faded to almost non-existent and Spot looked at him expectantly. He crossed his first two fingers, middle behind pointer, circled them in the air, and nodded to the television screen. 

“He’s asking if you’re ready.” Kath offered to the room, who was looking on in a mix of amusement and confusion.

Spot just nodded and they picked their characters and the race route. The entire room sat on edge. Specs was shoving popcorn into his mouth without realizing what he was eating, and Les had completely abandoned his comic and sat up, swinging his feet off of Race’s lap. Kath was smiling, smug and entertained, as her best friend kept barely a pace behind Spot for the first three and a half laps of the race. Jack’s eyes were wide and Davey was tapping his fingers against his thigh in a steady rhythm. 

At the very end, a mere few seconds from the end of the track, Albert pulled ahead and beat Spot by a hair. The entire room erupted when his Princess Daisy took the winner’s podium, and Spot just stared at him, mouth gaping. Jack launched himself forward and practically tackled Albert, laughing hysterically. Albert could feel his body shaking. Finally, Crutchy pulled Jack by the back of his shirt and Albert was smiling. 

He looked at Spot and rubbed his chest with his fist. Spot threw his hands up in the air. Albert squinted, trying to read the shorter boy’s lips. He had always been shit at this. He felt someone press something into his hand, and looked up. Race was leaning down, a look of awe and something else on his face, handing him back his aids. He slipped them in, wincing a little. 

“That’s impossible!” Spot cried again. “No one has EVER beat me!”

“Albert’s a freaking player, man.” Kath grinned. “The champ, hands down.”

Everyone was looking at Albert. He shrugged, pushing his hands into his hoodie pockets. “It was one of the only games they had at my Deaf school as a kid, and you don’t need to be able to hear anyone to play racing games. My dad and I used to play together.”

“Why do you take the hearing aids out?” Mush asked, and then Romeo swatted his leg. “Sorry if that’s rude.” He added, frowning at Romeo. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I guess just cuz that’s how I learned to play?” He tugged at the back of his neck. “I take ‘em out when I dance, too. Feels more natural that way?” 

“So freaking cool.” Crutchy breathed out. 

“What’s it like not being able to hear?” Les piped up. Davey groaned. 

Albert grinned. Kids asked that a lot, and it was fine. He really didn’t mind, because they usually just wanted to know. So curious. With adults, it was usually so condescending. So many people had offered to pray for him, as if that would make him magically able to hear. More than once, he’d just taken his aids out and walked away from them mid sentence. Kath usually laughed when that happened and pretended to slap him. 

“It’s cool, really. I don’t mind.” He looked around, and then handed Mush the controller. “Does anyone have any ear plugs?”

“I have headphones?” Specs offered. 

“Mmm, not quite.” 

“Oh!” Jack jumped up from where he was laying on the floor. “Medda keeps them for when we go to shows with her. Gets loud backstage.” He rummaged through a drawer on a shelf near the tv and pulled out a container of squishy orange bits, handing it to Albert. 

He took two out, and then gestured for Les to move closer to him. He put the squishy bits in the young boy’s ears, and then covered them with his hands. He looked around at the room, waiting expectantly. 

“Kath, mumble something.” He nodded to her. 

She rolled her eyes, but complied. She’d seen him do this before with kids, helped with this little demonstration. “It can be kinda hard to hear.” she mumbled. 

Les’s tiny face turned to a scowl as he struggled to piece together what she said. “What?” His voice was pitched loud and high. 

Albert laughed and leaned back on his heels, removing his hands from the boy’s ears and helping him take the ear plugs out. “Exactly.” He said with a smile. “It’s kind of like that.”

Les’s eyes were wide. “No offense but that sucked.”

Albert laughed.

“Lester!” Davey cried. 

“Nah, it’s cool.” Albert shook his head. “I don’t know any different. It’s better with the hearing aids, but. It can still be a nightmare to hear, especially in crowds.”

The kid nodded and leaned back. Then he leaned forward again. “Can it be my turn to play?” 

Jack laughed and pulled him down to the floor. “Who ya gonna beat, kid?”

“Mmm, Davey, play with me?” He looked expectantly at his older brother, who just rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the floor. Mush handed Davey his controller, and Spot gave his to Les. Albert returned to the sofa next to Race. 

“That was pretty fucking badass.” Race murmured, looking directly at Albert. 

Albert flushed and then, in a moment of boldness, put his arm around Race on the sofa. Race leaned into him slightly. He looked around the room. Specs and Blink were now arguing over which movie to watch when the pizza arrived, Jack had taken Mush’s seat on the armchair and had Crutchy in his lap, Mush and Romeo were curled up on a beanbag, and Kath and Sarah had somehow commandeered the bag of chips Blink had abandoned. Spot was sitting next to Les, trying to help him keep up with his brother, and Davey was apparently lost in the game. Kath winked at Albert and made the sign for kissing at him, subtly. Albert just rolled his eyes and waved her off. 

As Les was losing gracefully to his older brother, Medda cried that the pizza was here, and there was a mad rush to the kitchen. Mush and Romeo made space on the coffee table for the boxes, Blink, who had finally gotten Specs to agree to Boondock Saints by saying it was Spot’s favorite movie, was setting up the DVD player, Spot and Jack were fighting over who got to carry the pizzas, Davey and Sarah were getting plates and napkins, and Race was taking drink orders. He squeezed Albert’s hand before he got up, and without thinking about it, Albert followed him into the kitchen under the guise of helping him carry the sodas. 

*****

Race, Sarah, and Albert walked from school to dance class on Monday afternoon, and Albert tried to keep his face even and calm, even if he felt like his stomach was full of angry eels. Race was teasing Sarah about Kath, which was great because it meant the focus was not on Albert. 

“So, have you asked her out yet?” Race prodded again. 

Sarah groaned. “What if she says no?”

“What!?” Race smacked her arm, lightly. “She’s not gonna say no.”

“What do you know, Racetrack?” She jibbed. 

Albert smiled. “She won’t, you know.”

“Huh?” Both his walking companions looked up at him. 

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “She’s wondering if she should ask you out first. She’s not gonna say no if you ask her.”

“What!?” Kath cried. “Why didn’t you say!?”

Albert rolled his eyes, pulling the door of the dance studio open and gesturing them through. “Because I was kinda hoping you’d figure it out on your own. But she’s my best friend and I don’t like to watch her suffer, so. If you’re gonna be so clueless about it, I’ll tell you. Ask her on a date.”

Kath grabbed Albert’s face with both hands and pulled it down. She planted a loud kiss on his forehead. He grimaced and wiped his forehead once she let him go. Race laughed. She skipped off to the changing room, humming. 

“She loves you forever now.” Race commented as they made their way to the other change room. 

Albert just hummed as he shoved his backpack into an empty locker and started pulling clothes out of his workout bag. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Race put one hand on Albert’s tense shoulder and signed o-k with his other hand, a concerned look spread across his face. 

Albert sat down, hard, on the wooden bench, and covered his face with his hands. After a moment, he pinched his first two fingers against his thumb.  _ No.  _

Race pulled Albert’s other hand away from his face and guided the redhead to look at him as he crouched on the floor in front of the bench. He tapped his fist, thumb and pinky out, against his chin, knuckles towards his face.  _ What’s wrong? _

Albert smiled slightly. Race must’ve looked that one up on his own. Then he sighed heavily and spoke. “I just… I hate partnering when I don’t know the partner. I’m nervous.”

Race nodded. “If your partner sucks, we’ll complain to Denton. He usually puts me and Sarah together, so we’ll just ask if you can join our group. But it’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.” He held Albert’s hands in his slightly smaller ones.

Albert nodded, looking at the floor. 

“I’ve got you, Albert. I promise.”

Albert looked up at that. 

_ “Lo prometto.” _ Race said with emphasis. 

Albert smiled, finally, and nodded. The eels in his gut turned to something like moths and he heard Kath’s voice in the back of his head, gently mocking him.  _ Deaf boy got a language kink. _ She had told him after the party that he should ask Race out, but the idea of being rejected was terrifying. So, he squeezed Race’s hands, and stood up, pulling the shorter boy with him. They changed quickly, and Albert teased Race about being perpetually cold and his insistence on wearing long sleeves even when they were dancing. He tried to ignore the way the curly-haired haired boy’s track pants perfectly emphasized his tight dancer’s body. 

They made their way back to the studio, finding Sarah chatting with a couple of the girls in the class. They joined the conversation, talking about the choreo for the big group number and lamenting sore muscles and pained feet. Albert pushed the bottoms of his joggers up and pulled one of his socks off - he preferred to dance barefoot most of the time, which Race squinted at and teased him for. Race bent his body in half over his outstretched legs and Albert felt his face flush at the exposed strip of olive-toned skin at Race’s lower back, and distracted himself with his own stretching. He was flexing his arms and didn’t notice the way Race lost track of the sentence he was saying to Sarah in favor of watching his arms in the ripped up tank top he was wearing. 

_ “Non è guisto.” _ Race muttered, and ignored Sarah when she looked questions at him. 

Finally, Denton walked to the front of the room and faced the dancers. “Good afternoon everyone,” he started, and a chorus of good afternoons came back to him, “We have decided on our pairings and groupings for the short portion of the upcoming recital. You will choreograph your own pieces and pick your own songs, but if you need any help, ask one of us. We already discussed the skills that need to be present. We have paired and grouped dancers based on skill level, style, and compatibility, so we do hope that there won’t be any issues.”

Albert gritted his teeth, and Race placed his hand, gentle and warm, on his friend’s knee, hoping to comfort him. Denton started reading off groups, and people were clapping or cheering in excitement. 

“Sarah Jacobs, Alexa Richards, and Hannah Johnson.” He read. The three girls sitting with Race and Albert looked at each other in surprise and squealed in excitement. 

Then Sarah looked at Race in confusion. They had never not been paired together, not since they were kids. “What?” She whispered. 

He just shook his head, but his grip on Albert’s knee tightened slightly, and Albert slid his arm behind Race, pressing it subtly into Race’s back. 

Denton read off a couple more pairings, and then “An…” rolled his eyes, “Racetrack Higgins and Albert Walsh.” 

The boys looked at each other in surprise. Sarah grabbed Race’s arm, but he barely noticed. They didn’t hear the rest of the names being read off, just looking at each other, wheels turning in silence. Finally, Denton clapped his hands and gestured for everyone to stand up. Race blinked and pulled his hand, slowly, almost painfully, away from Albert’s leg. Albert pulled his hearing aids out, not once breaking eye contact with Race, and only broke it to put them in his bag. 

Finally, they were standing side by side to start stretches. Albert turned to Race.  _ O-K _ , he signed, the question written across his face with a smile. 

Race smiled, bright and warm and electric, and held his left hand in front of his face, palm in, pinched his right forefinger and thumb together, made a circle with them, and tapped them against his left forefinger.  _ Perfect. _

Albert felt his heartbeat simultaneously calm down and speed up rapidly. One of Denton’s assistants put them through stretches and Albert tried to lose himself in the movement, relishing the pull on his tight muscles. Finally, the ran through the long program choreo at half speed, and Denton released them to work on their group assignments. 

After drying the sweat from his head, Albert put his aids back in and sat knee to knee with Race. The other boy had flipped his hat backwards and pulled his phone out, scrolling through a dance playlist on his Spotify account. Albert was reading upside as the songs flipped by. Race looked up all of a sudden, his face mere inches from Albert’s, and his words caught in his throat. They stared at each other for a moment, unmoving, and then Race remembered that he had wanted to say something. 

“I want to do it your way.” He stumbled over the words. 

Albert held his hands in front of him, palms up, a confused look on his face. 

Race blinked. “You dance with...I mean, you don’t hear the sound, right?”

The redhead’s eyes widened. “I use the beat, I guess. Yeah. No harmonies and stuff.”

“I want to do the dance your way. Can you show me?”

Albert smiled, a rush of gratitude and maybe something else filling his chest. “Uh, probably? If we can get ear plugs and some noise cancelling headphones?”

Race smiled. “So, you pick the song. Pick a good one.” He handed Albert the phone. 

Albert took it, and looked at Race for a moment, and then opened his YouTube app. He’d been listening to this song on repeat for a couple of weeks now. It had a simple but catchy drumbeat, it wasn’t complicated, and they could come up with some interesting choreo for it. And it kinda made him think of Race. He pulled up the song, dug through his bag for his fancy headphones, a gift from Kath’s parents after the fire, plugged them in, and handed them to Race. He took them with a small smile, put them over his ears, and Albert pressed play, thankful that there wasn’t an add. Race started bobbing his head almost immediately, and Albert covered one of the earpieces with the hand not holding the phone, leaning into Race’s space, to feel the beat from the headphones. The opening to “What If I Go?” by Mura Masa was mostly drums, a little cymbol, and Albert loved it. Race was smiling by the time he reached the end of the first verse. Albert dropped the phone into his lap, carefully, and signed, a questioning look in his eyebrows,  _ Good? _

Race signed back, smiling wider.  _ Perfect. _

*****

They signed up for dance space at the studio during the week, and the next day, Albert smiled brightly at the drama teacher at the school and asked if they could use dance team’s practice room at any point. She just stared at him scowling slightly, and he signed, puppy dog eyes wide and innocent,  _ please _ , for good measure. From the doorway where he was watching, Race had to bite his fist to keep from laughing. The drama teacher’s face softened, and she told him they could, as long as they didn’t mess anything up and didn’t bother anyone. It was good, because it was soundproof, had a massive sound system, and wouldn’t bother anyone’s neighbors. Race asked Medda for some ear plugs, and she just gave him a whole container. Albert dragged Kath to a hardware shop across town and bought a pair of noise cancelling ear protectors and ignored her muttering the whole time. She was cheerful, at least, because Sarah had finally asked her on a date, and they were going to see a movie on Saturday morning. 

Denton had said they were welcome to edit songs to a better dancing pace, but they needed at least two minutes of the choreo, and to edit the song so that it had a natural-sounding rhythm and stopping place. Race had Spot download the song into his audio editing software and doctor it a little for them, and after a few minutes, Race had a CD with the track, and had it downloaded to his cell phone. 

“You know this is basically a love song, Race?” Spot raised his eyebrow at his friend.

Race busied himself with the zipper on his backpack. “I… I know, Spot.” he told the bag in his hands. 

Spot just clapped his hand on Race’s shoulder and nodded. “Get it, kid.”

Race shoved him off. “I’m older than you, punk.”

“Mmm.” Spot just nodded. “Now get out, I have to go meet Blink at this dumb hipster coffee shop. 

Race waggled his eyebrows. 

“I’ll kill you.”

“No you won’t, Spotty.”

Spot just scowled and grabbed his jacket and keys. 

*****

The first day, Albert took his aids out, Race put in the ear plugs and covered his ears in the noise cancelling ear muffs, and Albert turned the sound system on, volume as loud as it could go, bass heavy. He showed Race how to put his hand against the floor, head nodding in time to the beat, body swaying slightly. It was unlike anything Race had ever experienced before, but they started moving to it, creating some natural movement. By the end of the week, Race and Albert had created some semblance of choreo that incorporated both of their styles and all of the skills Denton had requested. Albert was more traditional, more stiff in his movements, and Race was more fluid, more loose, even after years of being barked at by Denton to straighten his legs. Once, when he was about 14, Race had told Denton he wasn’t very good at doing straight, and Denton had just turned on his heel and walked away, but his eyes were laughing. They showed Denton the choreo, and the man’s head was bobbing in time with their movement. Race was wearing ear plugs but no ear muffs, and Albert didn’t have his aids in, so when Denton was offering suggestions, he showed them, and then tapped his feet on the wooden floor to keep time. Then he smiled, in his quite way, nodded his head, and walked off. 

Albert gestured in the direction Denton had walked, and then, palm facing his chest, drew his hand out and pinched his middle finger and thumb together, questioning.  _ He like? _

Race knocked his fist in front of him, nodding.  _ Yeah. _

*****

One Saturday afternoon, after another practice, there was supposed to be a movie night at the Jacobs’ house. Bubbe had made cookies and Davey and Jack were going through the stack of DVDs while Crutchy listed available movies on Netflix. Romeo and Mush were chanting for Coco, and the Kath joined in from her spot curled next to Sarah. Finally, everyone else gave in and Specs returned from the kitchen with three bowls of popcorn and a bag of Cheetos, which he threw at Spot’s head. Albert sat on one end of the sofa, his head against the cushions, and Race’s head was in his lap, with Les curled at Race’s feet. Exhausted from a week of stressful practices, and having seen the movie already with Kath, Albert was distractedly playing with Race’s curls, and the tired boy was asleep less than 15 minutes into the movie. After a couple more minutes, Albert waved to get Kath’s attention, and signed to request closed captions. Kath whispered into Sarah’s ear, and she fiddled with the remote, shooting a glare at Romeo when he started to object. The captions were on, and Romeo just nodded when he realized what she was doing and sat back into Mush’s chest. Albert placed his aids on the side table next to him and shifted slightly so as not to wake the sleeping boy in his lap. He leaned his head more comfortably against the soft cushioned armrest and drew his hand together in front of his face when Kath looked at him and pointed to Race.  _ Sleeping _ . She smirked and he raised his eyebrow. After a few more minutes and one song, Albert was asleep, too, and Spot twisted around to get a picture of the two boys fast asleep on the Jacobs’ sofa. He texted it to the group chat they’d created, and Race saved it when he woke up, after he angrily threw a pillow at Spot in protest. 

*****

The week before the show, the costumes for the big number came in. Denton had told them they were all responsible for the costumes for their own numbers, but they all had to get fitted for costumes for “Unsteady.” It wasn’t too crazy, luckily, and much to Albert’s excitement and Race’s amusement, they were going to be barefoot and the girls would be in turners. There were a few lifts, so they had to make sure the costumes wouldn’t get in the way. Albert and Race and the other guys in the class were given sort of rust colored joggers and tan v necks and told to change, and the girls had these flowing skirts and crop tops. 

When Sarah came back from the dressing room with Alexa and Hannah, Albert and Race were waiting. Sarah held the skirt material out to Race, and he gripped it. 

“Well…” He started. 

“It’s better than that damn skirt from 6th grade.” she finished. 

Alexa grinned. “What was wrong with the skirt in 6th grade?”

Race groaned and explained. “It was so fucking smooth, it was nearly impossible to grip. I almost dropped her like 4 different times.”

“I had bruises on my legs from him gripping me so hard. It was ridiculous.” We moved to Denton’s studio after that competition because that was the second year running that the instructor had us in almost undanceable costumes. Honestly she was mostly a nightmare anyway.”

“The sequin tuxedo?” Albert asked Race, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Fuck that tux, man.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows. 

“The costumes were COVERED in sequins,” Sarah offered. “And it itched so badly we were both bright red and almost bleeding by the end of it. Never again.”

Denton called everyone to center, and they practiced a few of the lifts first, and then ran through the entire song from start to finish, no music, half speed. It was an emotional song, and emotional dance, with a lot of floor work. Denton complimented Albert’s facial expressions, reminded Race to hold his form on the falls, and stomped his foot to the beat. It went remarkably well, and Denton told everyone to take their costumes off, carefully, and bring them back to be cleaned properly. They’d do a dress rehearsal in the recital space two days before the show. 

*****

The day before the rehearsal, Race seriously considered not going to school because he was so nervous, but then Sarah called him first thing in the morning. 

“I know what you’re thinking” she blurted out without greeting when he answered. 

“Oh do you?” he muttered. 

“You have to go, Race. One, Mr. Pulitzer already wants to find something to suspend you for, and you have Snyder today, so don’t give them a reason to get you in trouble, and two, Albert is just as nervous as you are, so. Suffer together.” She pressed. 

He grumbled to himself. “I hate when you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” He heard her smile. “I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

_ “Ikh hab dir lib, oyster.” _ Sarah said, voice soft. 

_ “Ti amo, stupido.”  _ He responded with a huff, and then threw his phone somewhere near the bottom of his bed. 

Then it buzzed with an incoming text message. He sat up and looked for it for a second. 

“Are you freaking out?” Jack had texted. 

“Did Sarah tell you?” Race responded. “I hate her.”

“Nah you don’t. She’s kinda smart, but don’t ever tell her I told you.”

“Whatever, Cowboy.”

Jack shook his head at his friend. “You could just ask him out, you know.”

Race blinked at his phone and contemplated not responding, but then typed out. “What the fuck do you know?”

“Uh...I am happily in a relationship with not one, but two people, Race. I would say I know at least a little bit.”

“Ugh, leave me alone.”

“You’re an idiot.” and then “See you in a few. But seriously, think about it. I bet he’d say yes.”

“Goodbye Cowboy.” and then “Meet me outside my apartment. I’ll bring coffee.”

“Love you, too.”

Race showered, and choked down the breakfast his Nonna made him, scowling at Nikki’s cheerful smile. He got dressed in his most comfortable jeans and flannel, pulling his boots on, and making sure everything was in his bag for class. Denton didn’t want them practicing the day before the recital, so he left his dance bag in his closet and grabbed the travel cups from Nonna on his way out the door, kissing her cheek and yelling at Nikki to hold the elevator. Spot and Jack were leaning against the brick wall of their apartment building, and Nikki just rolled her eyes and turned towards the school. Both of them took one of the mugs Race was barely holding on to, and he sipped his own coffee.

“Nonna makes the best coffee ever.” Jack moaned after taking a sip.

“I know.” Race responded drily. Spot just smiled, sort of. Well, his eyebrow quirked up and his lip twitched in an approximation of a smile, and for Spot that was damn high praise.

They got to school and Albert and Kath were waiting outside with Crutchy, Davey, and Sarah. Kath and Sarah were holding hands on the bench they were sitting on, and Davey was playing with Crutchy’s hair. Jack leaned down to give both of them a kiss, and Spot walked off, muttering something about finding Blink. Albert was twisting the hem of his hoodie in his hands, and Race shifted his mug to be able to sign,  _ good? _ to his friend. Albert shifted his palm side to side in front of him, as if to say “kind of,” and grimaced. Then the bell rang and they had to go inside. At lunch, they sat in the cafeteria, because it had gotten too cold to sit outside. Albert groaned at the volume, and then turned the sound all the way down on his hearing aids. Race chuckled a little and offered him one of the cookies Nonna had packed in his lunch. 

*****

The next morning, Race woke up before his alarm and laid there, staring at the ceiling, going over the dances in his head. Finally, after the alarm went off and his dad thumped on his door, he swung his feet over the edge and started to get ready. He ate breakfast and Nonna made him sit at the table until he finished an entire glass of water. Then he checked to make sure all his costumes were in his bag. Joggers and v neck for Unsteady, and the plain grey joggers and baggy black long sleeve for What If I Go. They’d both be barefoot, but they decided they didn’t want to look identical, so Albert wasn’t going to be wearing a shirt. Race tried not to think about it too much, because if he did, he got distracted and stumbled over the movements. His phone was buzzing pretty constantly, well wishes from his friends, and one from Albert asking if he was ready. 

“Born ready.” he responded, with much more confidence than he felt. 

“I’m glad you feel that way, because I might vomit.” Albert texted back quickly.

Secretly, Race felt the same way. “Hey, we’re gonna do great. For real.”

“Yeah?”

Feeling kind of cheesy, Race responded. “Wherever you go, I go with ya,” quoting their song’s chorus. 

Albert send back a series of smiling emojis and a heart. Race felt his heart drop somewhere towards his knees.

Finally, after what felt like far too long, his dad dropped him off at the recital space and went to find parking. He found Albert and Sarah backstage. 

“Is everyone here?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves and excitement. 

“If by everyone, you mean my parents, Bubbe, both my brothers, Crutchy, Jack, Spot, Blink, Medda, and Kath and her parents, then yes.” Sarah said with a smile. 

“And Romeo, Specs, and Mush said they were almost here. Your family?” Albert added. 

“My dad is trying to find parking. Nonna and Nikki are finding seats. I’m sure they’ll find your parents.” He nodded to Sarah.

Denton appeared. “Dancers,” he clapped his hands, “Costumes, now!” 

There was a flurry of movement while everyone got dressed, put makeup on, tripped over each other. Dancer captains were leading teams in stretching, teaching assistants were rushing around giving last minute reminders. Race helped a couple of the younger kids in the younger age groups at the studio put setting powder on their faces so they wouldn’t shine under the stage lights, and Sarah was French braiding a little girl’s hair. Albert was helping a couple of kids with their dance shoes. 

Finally, the house lights dropped. Denton went out to announce the first dance of the evening, their group dance to Unsteady. Sarah was rotating her wrists, flexing her feet. Albert was handing his hearing aids to one of the teaching assistants. Race pressed his hands against his chest. The music started, and the dancers started to move in a staggered line to the stage. For a moment, Race heard a burst of clapping and shouting, but as soon as he stepped into the bright stage lights, everything but the movement faded. The first lift came, he and Albert lifting Sarah above their heads for her to tumble, gracefully, controlled, but made to look like she was falling, like they were collapsing, and he felt the beat in his core. Felt the way Albert looked like he might have been crying and he couldn’t tell if it just an expression he’d painted on his face for the dance, or if he, too, felt a little unsteady. If he was waiting for someone to hold on to him. The song ended with Race half carrying, half dragging Sarah off the stage, and then the entire team ran to their room backstage, gleeful and riding the high of an amazing show. 

The crowd was cheering, clapping, and Race was pretty sure he heard Jack’s piercing whistle. Albert grabbed Sarah by the waist and spun her around, and her head was thrown back in a laugh. Race, standing right next to them, raised his hands, palms out, above his head and pumped them, excitement painting his face.  _ Amazing!! _

Albert put Sarah down, and she started doing some kind of jumping chant with Alexa and Hannah. He turned toward Race, barely enough space between the two of them to sign, gestured to the group, swung clawed hands back and forth in front of his hips, palms down, and tapped his left palm with his right pinky.  _ We did it! _

Race heard Denton announcing the next dance, the group just younger than them was dancing to some jazzy beat. The teaching assistant pushed through the crowded room and handed Albert his hearing aids. He rolled his eyes and put them in, grimacing painfully at the sudden din. Without thinking, Race took a step closer, they were nearly chest to chest, and covered Albert’s ears with his hands, mimicking the grimace. 

“It’s loud.” Race he said, right in the other boy’s face.  _ “Rumoroso...”  _

Albert gasped a little, mouth slightly open, hands on Race’s forearms, holding them in place. “It hurts a little at first. Shoulda turned the volume off first, didn’t think about it.” 

_ “Sciocco…” _ Race shook his head, and slowly pulled his hands away from Albert’s face. The other boy’s hands didn’t unclench from his forearms. 

“I am not a fool, Racetrack!” Albert pretended to look offended. 

Race just squinted and tilted his head, scrunching his nose up in playful disagreement. A different instructor came into the room and clapped, loudly. The room quieted almost immediately. Albert dropped Race’s arms, suddenly, and Race tried not to shudder at the loss. Albert turned the volume down on his aids, and hoped he wasn’t going to be missing anything important. 

“Start changing for your individual dances. You’ve got this dance and then 2 more groups before the intermission. Then your dances start. Sarah, Alexa, Hannah, you’re up first.” The instructor, a tall, lean redhead with wire-rimmed glasses and a long green skirt and a flowy white shirt nodded sternly and clapped once more. 

There was another flurry of movement in the dressing room. Race was trying to quell the nerves building back up in his chest. He and Albert were going last, if they messed up, everyone would remember it. He was staring into space and felt a hand on his arm. He jolted, and Albert was right there. The redhead moved his hand in an arc from one side of his chest to the other, made a sort of waving salute with his right hand, and then made a sort of chopping motion with his flat right hand, over his left palm.  _ We will alright.  _ Then he squeezed Race’s arm and smiled.

Race nodded. He made the same chopping motion, sort of passively, without really paying attention.  _ “Andremo bene,”  _ He repeated in Italian. “We’ll be alright.” 

Albert blinked, and then squeezed his arm again and smiled. 

They started to change, and Race had to try to remember to breath again for a whole different reason when Albert was just sitting there in his low-slung joggers, no shirt, and a zip-up hoodie to ward off the backstage chill. His vision was suddenly crowded with Sarah, snapping in his face, and he felt his blood rush to his face. 

“Oy, loverboy.  _ Helf mikh. _ ” She turned around and waved at the zipper of her tight peach bodysuit. “It’s stuck.”

Race rolled his eyes, grateful at least for the slight distraction. He tugged the zipper gently until it started to move, zipping her the rest of the way. Her hair was pulled into some complicated looking updo, and Race could smell the hairspray. He was sure if he tried to touch it, it would be sticky and also she would rip his arm off his body. 

_ “Pronto?”  _ He asked when she spun back around.

She blinked slightly, eyelids glittering and lips a dark, deep red color. “Do I look alright?” She gestured at her ensemble.

“Excellent. Y’all are gonna kill it.” He nodded, sure and decisive.

“You gonna watch from the wings?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He grabbed her shaking hands. “It’s weird, right?”

She raised her eyebrow. 

“Not dancing together. It’s a little weird.”

She squeezed his hands. “Yeah, a little. But, you get to dance with  _ deyn libe,  _ so I imagine you’ll be fine.”

Race dropped her hands. “He is not my love,” he grumbled. 

“Only because you can’t seem to get your shit together long enough to ask him out, ya dummy.” The smile on Sarah’s face belied her words, her tone playful. 

“Yeah, but he might say no…”

She raised her eyebrow, and started to open her mouth to say something, but the  redheaded instructor came back to the room and called her group to come stretch. So, she just smiled at Race, grabbed the staggeringly tall heels from her bag, and ran off with Alexa and Hannah. Race made his way over to Albert, who was clutching his hands together in his lap and staring at them, looking pained. 

_ “Cosa c'è che non va?”  _ Race asked, when Albert looked up, and tapped his knuckles, pinky and thumb outstretched, against his chin.  _ What’s wrong? _

Albert sighed, heavily. He tapped the tip of his thumb, the rest of his fingers outstretched, against his chin, and then his forehead.  _ Mom, dad. _

Race crouched down on the floor and put his hands on Albert’s knees. He didn’t know what to say to make this situation better, wanted to take the pain away, but wasn’t sure how. “I’m so sorry, Al. Really.”

Albert just shrugged. 

“I think of my mom every time I dance, ya know?” Race’s voice was barely a whisper, but he was looking directly at Albert, and he seemed to understand. “I know it’s not the same, because my dad’s here, and Nonna, and Nikki. But I miss her, every time. I just think...I think she must be watching, must be proud of me. And, I know it’s not the same, I know it won’t take the place of your parents, but, everyone’s here for you, too. Kath and her parents, my family, Jack and Spot and Crutchy, Sarah’s whole family, Specs, Mush, Romeo...everyone.”

Albert smiled slightly, and then his face fell a little again. “It’s just...this is the first time I’ve done a recital without my mom in the audience. After my dad died, it was so hard, but, at least I had my mom, ya know?” Race nodded. “But now...idk, I guess it just hit me. Neither of them is here.” He smiled, kind of watery. “They were always so loud, you know? My dad, especially, but even my mom. So loud. It wasn’t as noticeable at the Deaf events, but, even after that, I’d see my mom jumping up and down and waving her hands in the audience when I finished dancing, and I could see her shouting, almost hear it even without my aids.” 

Race nodded. “I bet she was so proud of you.”

Albert ducked his head. “It embarrassed me at first. Now I just miss it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Race heard Denton announcing the intermission stop and the crowd start to shuffle. An idea occurred to him. Usually, people went to the bathroom or stood up to walk around during the short intermission, and he was betting someone would look at their phone. Jack or Spot would be most likely. The wheels started turning. “We’ve got a the intermission before Sarah’s dance, just a few minutes. Anything I can do before then?” He asked. 

Albert smiled at him. “No, talking about it helped. Thanks. I’m going to the bathroom real quick.”

“Alright.” He smiled and nodded. “I’ll be here.”

As soon as Albert left the room toward the bathroom, Race grabbed his phone from his bag. He’d have to be quick, because if the instructors caught him on his phone back stage, they’d get pissed. He clicked it on, staring at the door. He had a few texts - his dad saying they were all in a crowd in the middle, but they’d all managed to get seats together, Nikki saying all his friends were real damn annoying, and Jack telling him to break a leg, or not, whichever was best, with a row of winking emojis. He sent a group text to Jack and Spot and, for good measure, Kath, telling them about his idea. He clutched his phone, willing a message to blink through quickly. After a moment, all three of them responded. 

“As if I wasn’t going to make a ruckus anyway.” Jack responded. “Shoulda brought my hat to wave around.”

“I’m so glad the stupid cowboy didn’t bring his hat. I’ll make a dignified amount of a ruckus.” Spot’s text came immediately after Jack’s. 

A beat later, Kath just responded with a heart emoji. Race turned his phone back off and tossed it in his bag just as Albert was walking back into the room. His heart soared. 

“Come on, we gotta go watch Sarah’s dance or she’ll kill us.”

Albert laughed. “I feel like she’d be good at dismembering.”

“Never get her and Jack on the same warpath. It gets scary.” Race grabbed Albert’s hand and dragged him through the backstage. 

“I want that story later!” Albert whispered, a little breathless sounding as he tried not to trip while Race pulled him to the wings. 

They made it just as Sarah, Alexa, and Hannah were about to go on stage. Race gave Sarah a quick squeeze and Albert waved. The three girls sauntered on stage in sky high sparkling heels to the opening bars of “Pretty Hurts” by Beyoncé. They started with a slow, measured circle of the stage, until Hannah executed an artful fall into Alexa, who dragged Sarah down with them. There was this beautiful bit of floor work that looked almost like a fight, and then were taking the strappy heels off, lining them up at the front of the stage, dancing barefoot, anguished expressions and drawn out motions. Race would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel choked up by the end of it, when all three girls collapsed on the stage. Albert was grasping Race’s arm, an expression of awe and something maybe like pain on his face. The girls ran off the stage, and Race grabbed Sarah up, spinning her around the same way Albert had. 

_ Beautiful,  _ Albert signed. She smiled at him from her perch in Race’s arms. 

“Are you crying,  _ oyster _ ???” Sarah whispered as the clapping finally died down and they started to walk further backstage. 

Race had finally put her down, and she wiped a finger under his watery looking eyes. He swatted her hand. The girls changed out of their costumes, and then they went back to the wings to watch their other classmates complete their dances. 

Finally, it was time for Race and Albert to get ready for their dance. Just before Denton called them over, Sarah grabbed Race by the arm and pulled him in for a tight hug. Before he had a chance to be confused by her sudden display of affection, Sarah whispered in his ear. 

“He won’t say no, you know.” She said, and pulled back with a smile. Race raised his eyebrow and cocked his head slightly toward Albert. Sarah nodded. “Kath told me.” Race felt his entire body flush. 

Then, Denton called them. Albert handed his hoodie and his hearing aids to Sarah. She signed  _ good luck _ to them both, smile bright. Race shook his entire body, listening to Denton announce them and their dance, Sarah’s words playing on repeat in his head. Finally, they walked onto the stage, casual and light, and Race looked out to the audience, pointing somewhere near the back and looking at Albert. He smiled, bright and electric, and slapped Race’s shoulder. They fell into the choreography, and Albert couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Dancing with Race was arguably the most fun he’d had in a long time, and it was easy to imagine they were just in the studio with a shaking video camera and Race’s stupid hat. Race couldn’t help but notice the way Albert’s muscles rippled with the movement, his chest bare, his smile bright and eyes shining. They made eye contact over one of the transitions and suddenly Race felt the music in the depth of his chest -  _ you, that’s my lottery won _ \- and he smiled so bright it hurt a little. 

The song ended with Race doing a back kick flip and ending up chest to chest with Albert, breath heaving, lights dark, staring at glittering green eyes. Then it felt like the entire auditorium erupted. The lights came back on the boys grasped hands to bow. Somewhere halfway back in the audience, an entire group of people were standing up, hooting and hollering, arms waving in the air. Jack and Spot were whistling loudly, someone was stomping. Race felt his face flush, and Albert’s eyes were wide. He looked at Race, blinking slowly, and then back at the audience where their friends,  _ no _ , he corrected himself,  _ their family _ was cheering, loud enough for him to see and hear in the dark with no aids. He smiled, tears pooling in his eyes, and raised the hand not clinging to Race’s, thumb, forefinger, and pinky to the sky. 

_ I love you! _

They bowed again, and Race pulled them off the stage. Albert found himself getting used to, relishing, the feeling of the curly haired boy tugging him places, dragging him along for another adventure. 

Denton clapped them on the shoulders as he walked onto the stage, and Sarah was standing there with Albert’s hoodie and hearing aids and a megawatt smile, but Albert didn’t notice. He grabbed Race’s arm, pulled him around. They were standing in semi-darkness just off stage, barely a foot of space between them. 

_ You do this?  _ Albert signed, gesturing back toward the audience, face serious. 

_ Yes.  _ Race looked a little bashful.  _ You okay? You like? _

Albert felt a million different things bubble up in his chest, couldn’t find the signs or the words for any of them. He grabbed Race by the front of his soft cotton shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him, hard and fast and unthinking. 

For the briefest moment, Race stood in shock - eyes wide, hands thrown out, unmoving. Then, his brain caught up to what was happening and he melted into the kiss. His hands moved, almost without his permission, to the sides of Albert’s face, lacing his fingers through his dark red hair, closed his eyes, and returned the kiss like breathing depended on it. Albert could feel Race’s heartbeat, a rapidfire thunking, under the fisted t-shirt. 

Then, there was a whooping sound from somewhere next to him, and Race started, turning to look at the source of the noise. It was Sarah, who had one hand in the air and was smiling like she had won the lottery. Hannah and Alexa both had their hands clasped together. Race rolled his eyes, and moved his hands from Albert’s face to his hips. Sarah stepped forward and held the hoodie, hearing aids gently placed on top, to Albert. He reluctantly let go of Race’s shirt and turned slightly, relishing the way Race’s hand never left his hip, curling around him almost protectively. He grabbed the hearing aids from the hoodie, and Race signed at him with his free hand to turn them down. He laughed, turned the volume down, and put them in his ears, throwing his hoodie on. 

“Fucking finally!” Sarah cried once he had finished. 

Albert just blinked. Race swatted her arm, again. “Sarah.  _ Sta 'zitto, per favore. _ ” 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m just saying, we were all thinking it. Come on, let’s go before the horde tries to break down the door to get in here.” She gestured towards the dressing room. 

The girls started to walk away, and Race made to follow them. Albert grabbed his arm and pulled him back. 

_ Thank you. _

_ What? _ Race looked confused. 

_ The celebration. Cheering. Thank you. _

_ Anything for you.  _ Race signed back, emphasizing the sign for anything.  _ “Qualsiasi cosa per te.”  _ He repeated.

Albert put his hand, gentle and warm, on Race’s cheek, and pulled the slightly shorter boy in for a kiss. Race reciprocated immediately. Then Sarah shouted at them from down the hallway. They jolted apart, smiling, laughing twitching at the corners of their mouths.

When they got to the lobby, the entire crowd of people waiting for them started cheering again. Kath had flowers for Sarah, and when they kissed, Mush and Romeo started clapping until Sarah glared at them. Nikki gave Race a one armed hug and looked pointedly at his other hand, enveloped in Albert’s hand and hugely unwilling to let go. He just smiled, and she nodded. Then Jack noticed their clasped hands and wolf whistled. Medda smacked him on the back of the head, but he looked entirely unrepentant and Blink handed Spot five dollars. Albert’s face was flushed bright red, and Race thought it looked awfully pretty, but he kicked Jack’s shin anyway. Nonna grabbed both boys in a shockingly bone crushing hug, patted Albert’s cheek, pinched Race’s arm, and then grabbed him by the face. 

_ “Non rovinare tutto,”  _ She said, stern tone and sparkling eyes. 

Albert raised his eyebrow when they all turned to leave the auditorium. Race just shook his head. 

“How do you say boyfriend in sign?” He whispered, smiling at the blushing redhead. 

Albert let go of his hands, showing him the sign, flat fingers pinching with his thumb at his forehead, hooked forefingers tapping together in front of him. Race repeated the movement, and then pointed to Albert, a question across his face. In response, Albert pulled Race in by his face and kissing him. Race smiled against his lips until he heard Specs shouting at them. 

_ Later.  _ Albert signed.  _ Promise. _

Race grabbed his hand again and pulled him, again, across the lobby.  _ “Mio ragazzo.” _

Albert felt like his face might break open.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos give me life. My tumblr is iamthececimonster. Send me messages, requests, whatever. I thrive off of external validation.


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